


In the End

by magicknickers



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Girl on Fire Comment Ficathon, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicknickers/pseuds/magicknickers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Games, things are different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the End

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Girl on Fire Comment Ficathon over at kolms's livejournal with the prompt: _katniss/gale, everything is measured by the hole it leaves behind._

In the end, it is Peeta who dies.   
  
Your District is silent, all of those dark, familiar eyes on you like they’ve never been before. You can’t help but feel  _judged_ , as if you have committed some grave sin by winning. He  _(oh, God, Peeta)_  was so in love with you, after all, you should have died together—entwined like lovers, the nightlock staining both of your mouths with a lovely sort of death.   
  
That isn’t really love, though, is it? Peeta loved you enough to stab himself in the gut as you watched in silent horror.   
  
There are things  _(Cato and Thresh and Glimmer and everything)_  that you wish you could erase from your memory. Somehow, that is not one of them.   
  
“Catnip,” Gale greets, and there is some underlying emotion in his words that you do not want to look at too closely. You are overwhelmed, your mind not functioning as it used to quite yet, and you do not smile at the nickname. There is an aching that you cannot shake out, and you think  _(know)_  that it may be Peeta, clinging to you stubbornly.   
  
Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t found him buried under that camouflage.  _This_ , the aftermath of it, would have been easier to deal with. When you are alone at night, plagued with horrible dreams, you can still taste his kiss on your lips.   
  
“Hi,” you finally answer, and Gale’s smile is not the easy grin that you remember. The Games have left their mark on everybody, it seems.   
  
For a moment, you merely stare at each other, reacquainting yourselves with the familiar lines and curves of each other’s faces.   
  
Without saying a word, he grabs your hand in his own. And you let him.


End file.
